Sherlock and the Red Dress
by BellesYellowRose
Summary: Sherlock has to go undercover in order to finish the last thing needed to break Moriarty's network. In order to blend in he needs Molly's help. Not wishing to embarrass herself again Molly ask John for helping dressing for the occasion. Will it impress Sherlock?
1. Chapter 1

**Hey Guys! Here is my new two-shot of Sherlolly! I want to thank you for all for you support on He Made You Cry. It gave me the confidence to try another story. I am hoping to build up to a multi-chapter fic. Can't wait to hear what you all think!**

**Disclaimer- I own nothing of Sherlock (Trust me if I did we would be seeing some Sherlolly happening).**

* * *

Molly gaped at the men sitting across from her, "you can't be serious?"

One had the decency to look somewhat sheepish but the other gave his customary eye roll, "Yes, because I am known for my joke telling. Of course, I am serious." He snapped crossly.

But, but, I uh-"

"Really, Molly this is not complicated. I don't understand why you seem so flustered. It would only be for one night."

"Sherlock," John finally intervened sensing how uncomfortable the young pathologist was feeling, "Maybe it would better if we-"

"Don't be ridiculous, John," Sherlock said impatiently, "There is no one else." He turned to Molly, "I will be at your flat by seven." Without waiting for a reply he stood up heading out of the lab.

"What about Sgt. Donovan?" Molly blurted out desperately.

Sherlock stopped in his tracks before turning back slowly to face her, his eyes narrowed and his face cold. Molly could feel his disapproval and shame went through for even suggesting it, "Sorry," She mumbled.

She took a deep breath calming her racing heart. Really Molly, she admonished herself, it was for just one night and he_ needed_ her. She stood up facing him, "I will see you at seven,"

"It is settled then," Sherlock said with a brisk nod before walking out.

Heavy silence filled the morgue as John stared at Molly before finally breaking the tension, "I am really sorry about all this Molly."

Molly gave an awkward laugh, "Don't be silly, John. I am happy to help."

John opened his mouth to reply but Sherlock burst back in before he could say a word, "Oh and Molly."

"Yes?"

"Don't dress like you." Sherlock told her before swooping back out impatiently.

Molly blushed a deep red before turning to John who looked uncomfortable. He gave her a weak smile, "Don't worry about it, Molls. I am sure you will look beautiful no matter what you wear. Just ignore Sherlock, lord knows I do."

She nodded absently, her mind racing with thoughts about the evening ahead. Sherlock had been investigating a high-profile businessman in London, Nicholas Greene. They believed him to be leading the now disabled network trying to reestablish it to its former power. Sherlock was convinced he was the new "Moriarty," Molly shivered inwardly at the thought.

It had been two years since Sherlock had "died." He had only come out of hiding within the last six months much to her relief. Molly had never been a good liar and especially hated lying to John and Greg who had taken a special guilt over Sherlock's death for not defending him better against those in Scotland Yard who bought into the lies.

Except for helping the one night making sure his body was taken away and replaced with a look alike, Molly had not seen or heard from Sherlock either. Mycroft had come within a couple of hours of his fall and Sherlock had disappeared. By the end of it Molly had almost come to believe her own deception. Just when she began to think she had imagined it all and Sherlock really had died on that rooftop, he had come strolling into St. Barts with a black eye and a stunned John. Sherlock had plopped down at her microscope asking for coffee as though nothing had happened. Like nothing had changed.

Molly had to grudgingly admit, nothing really had. She had hoped after everything she had done their relationship would have at least reached the level of friendship. However, except for the occasional insight into his cases and less open hostility Sherlock did not treat her or SEE her any differently than he always had. He had never called upon her for help again…until now. Greene was having a banquet tonight and Sherlock was convinced it was the perfect time to access the proof he needed. He could blend in with a large crowd and security would easily distracted. However, there was one problem…

"_I cannot attend solo," Sherlock stated crossing his legs on the table, "I need someone to accompany me to help give off the façade of a wealthy businessman. One who's only interest is the high lifestyle he leads. It is absolutely vital that I do not attract attention, I must be simply another face in the crowd. Therefore I need a…" He paused as though the word was physically difficult for him, "date. More specifically a wife. This is where you come in, Molly." _

Molly knew it was only pretend but it did not stop her heart from stopping when he had said those words. I mean being in love with a man for years and then having to act as his wife, how did one go unaffected by it?

Also, Molly knew she was awkward, clumsy, and had no clue how to act apart of the socialite crowd. She was a daughter of a fisherman for goodness sake! While she doubted this evening would be exceedingly dangerous (despite his flaws, she knew Sherlock would never intentionally put her in harm's way) but if she did acted in a way that drew attention to them, Sherlock would miss his opportunity.

Molly bite her lip thinking about his last comment not to dress like herself. As much as she hated to admit it, he had a point. She had never really cared about fashion, it was not like she had much of a need really. Her mother had left when she was young so she had never had any guidance on the subject and honestly she had never bothered to learn. The main people she saw were dead and it was not like she had a line of men at her door to ask her out. Molly had never really felt very confident in her looks anyway so it was easier to hide under the baggy jumpers. But her friend Mary once had told her, "Sometimes the first step in feeling confident is looking confident. If you want guys to notice maybe start acting and looking like you want them too."

Molly couldn't help wondering if maybe Mary had a point. She glanced over at John who was gathering his stuff to go. Molly felt slightly guilty realizing she had just been staring off into space for the last few minutes. He gave her an understanding smile as he started off, watching him walk away she had a thought, "John," She called out tentatively.

"Yes, Molly?"  
"Could you um," Molly bite her lip, "help me?" She whispered.

He gave her a puzzled frown, "Help you how?"

She sighed before standing up in front of him, "Help me find a dress?"

"Molly-"

"John," She interrupted with a sad smile, "it's okay. I know I am not good when it comes to this sort of thing. Sherlock is right. I have to look the part and I was hoping you could help me. So you know I won't embarrass myself…again"

John sighed remembering the same Christmas party. The one time Molly had dressed up trying impress Sherlock. She had went overboard and ended up looking like a little girl in her mom's clothes. John could tell how important tonight was for her, how badly she wanted to do a good job.

He gazed at Molly who couldn't quite look him in the eye. He knew she was embarrassed to ask but aside from himself the only friend she had was his fiancé Mary who was out of town visiting her folks. John honestly felt bad for Molly. She really was a beautiful girl but she just had no confidence in herself. He knew if tonight was going to work she needed to walk in and have no-one doubt she belonged.

John grinned inwardly as he pictured how Sherlock might react if actually SAW Molly. Despite all the evidence to the contrary he was convinced Sherlock did feel something for the young pathologist. It was the fact he was so indifferent to her that made John suspicious. He acted as though he couldn't care less about her but because he always mentioned how she was looking and going out of his way to interrupt her dates, John couldn't help wondering if maybe there was more going on? With this thought he gave Molly a smile, "Okay."

* * *

"John," Molly grumbled as she stumbled out of the dressing room, "I look like a mermaid who was strangled by seaweed."

John bit back a smile, "it's not that bad."

Molly glared at him.

He grimaced, "Okay, yeah you do." The dress was a lime green, bunching awkwardly over her stomach and breasts. Plus being so tight around her legs that she could barely walk. "John," Molly said stumbling to the mirror, "No offense but I could have picked something like this out by myself."

He nodded with a sigh, it was time to call in some help. He grabbed his phone texting Mary asking for her advice. As a guy he knew when a woman looked attractive in a dress but he had no clue how pick one out for her.

As he waited for a reply, Molly stepped out of the dressing room, "I kind of like this one," she said. It was a deep purple and very simple. It had spaghetti straps and fell softly over her body, it was nice but it did not have the impact John was hoping to impress on Sherlock.

"No, that's not it."

Molly gave a frustrated frown, this was going to be more difficult than she thought. She glanced over as his phone tinged with a new message. Her stomach tightening nervously as John broke into a smile, "Molly, how do you feel about red?"

An hour later and her dressing room looked like a Valentine's Day explosion. Every dress in every shade of red you could imagine had been brought to her. There were a few Molly had really liked but there seemed to be a certain look he was going for. Feeling exhausted Molly grabbed the last one of the pile. As she slipped it on Molly could feel the soft fabric molding to her body. Molly turned slowly to face the mirror almost scared to see herself. This one felt different on her.

She gasped her hands flying to her mouth, it was a deep red and clung to her body as though it was made for her. Molly had always been afraid to try on a strapless gown but this one with its sweetheart neckline shaped her figure perfectly. It pushed up her breasts but not enough to make her feel like she was falling out. It fell simply to the floor but it had a long slit all the way up to her thigh.

Molly gulped staring at herself, she couldn't believe it. She had never seen herself look so elegant or…sexy. She bite her lip as self-doubt started to creep in. Could she really pull this off?

"Molly," John asked knocking on the door, "are you all-right?"  
Yes," She called her voice squeaking, "um… I like this one but I don't know if…" She trailed off glancing back into the mirror.

"Let me see."

Molly took a deep breath, gathering her hair into a bun off her neck she opened the door, "Well?"  
John's eyes widened as he looked at the pathologist barely recognizing her, he just stared for a few minutes before he realized Molly was waving her hand in his face, "John?"

"What-?" He shook himself out of his stupor, "I think this one will do." He told her calmly clearing his throat.

She smiled shyly, "Really?"

He nodded his eyes still slightly big. Molly walked down the hall towards the full-length mirror, she stopped staring at herself before letting out a grin, "okay," she whispered.

* * *

That evening as she stepped into her new pair of black heels Molly felt stunning for the first time in her life. Mary had called why she was checking out and told her that she had set up for her to get her make-up done at the cosmetic department. "Early birthday present," She called it.

The ladies had kept her look natural but they enhanced her features. They had rimmed her eyes making them look even bigger, adding just enough color to her cheeks giving them a soft glow, but they had painted her lips a deep red to match her dress. Plus putting some sort of gloss on causing them to look fuller. All in all Molly could barely recognize herself. She glanced shakily at the clock realizing Sherlock would be here in any minute.

Molly knew deep down she had done all of this for him. Of course she knew it was important she play the part of rich socialite but mostly she wanted Sherlock to be impressed by her. To look at her and not see the same awkward klutz he saw every day at the morgue.

Molly knew Sherlock respected her, her work and even thanked her for everything she had done for him over the years but that was it. He did not think of her as a woman and certainly never the woman for him.

But tonight Molly was to play his wife and while she knew it was pretend she wanted a moment. ONE moment where maybe he would look at her and really see her. Something she could look back on during the lonely nights. She took a deep breath admitting how much that would mean to her. She was startled out her thoughts by a knock on her door, "Molly," His deep voice sending shivers down her spine.

"Coming," Sending a prayer heavenward she marched forward running her hands over her dress smoothing it out. She opened it with a smile, "Hi."

"Hello-"His greeting dying in his throat as he stared at her. For the first time in his life Sherlock Holmes was rendered speechless. John had told him to be nice, that no matter what Molly ended up wearing he was to tell her she looked lovely. Sherlock had grudgingly agreed after the doctor threatened not let him do any experiments in the flat for a month otherwise.

He realized he was going have to break his promise. Lovely was hardly fitting for how Molly Hooper looked this evening. If it were not for the fact that her voice was the same tone and the slight nervous clenching of her fingers, Sherlock would wonder if this was some look alike impersonating her.

The deep red of the dress complimented her pale skin. Sherlock frowned wondering why he had been unable to detect Molly's delicious figure under her lab coat. This dress showed it off well. It clung to her curves causing himself to feel oddly warm. He had to force his eyes away from the swell of her breasts which had been pushed up to the top of the dress. He forced his gaze down and almost swallowed his tongue as he noticed the long slit showing off a creamy leg. For someone so short, Molly had surprisingly long legs.

"Did I do okay?" Molly asked, "I mean did I do well not dressing like me?" She joked nervously.

Sherlock realized he had not said anything for quite a while and Molly's face had paled slightly misinterpreting his silence. He strode forward grabbing her hand, "You, Dr. Hooper look beautiful," He said softly before placing a gentle kiss on her hand.

She let out the breath she had been holding, "thank you," She said, "you look wonderful too."

She swore the man had his clothes designed specifically to torture her, his black tux was tailored perfectly to his body with his crisp white shirt molding to his chest. His black curls styled carefully around his face. Even his eyes seemed bluer tonight. Molly hated this man. She really did.

Sherlock nodded his head with thanks at the compliment, "I like how you did your hair, Molly."

She narrowed her eyes at him suspiciously. Sherlock smirked reading her mind, "No, truly."

She had curled it and then piled it loosely at the back of her head letting some tendrils hang down kissing her neck and shoulders. Sherlock cocked his head as he took in her make-up, it was soft but well done bringing out her features, her lips though had the same deep red as her dress causing his stomach to tighten. He frowned at his body's reaction, "Who did your make-up tonight?" He asked gruffly.

Molly let out a soft chuckle, "what makes you think I had it done?"

"Please," Sherlock rolled his eyes annoyed, "It is applied accurately which is hardly a talent of yours. Also I see-"

"Sherlock" Molly interrupted, "You have been nice for almost two minutes which is some sort of record for you. Please don't ruin it." She gave him a smile to show she was teasing.

Sherlock inclined his head in her direction, "Very well but after four minutes I make no promises."

She laughed, "Deal. Let me just grab my purse and we can go." As she turned to walk away Sherlock was again stunned by his physical response to her. He had known for some time that his relationship with the pathologist had changed. Ever since the day when she had correctly deduced he was in trouble and then without thinking had helped him fake his death.

The night he "died" Molly had taken care of him. She had snuck him back to her flat and while he did not remember much due to the drugs and the pain, he remembered her hands as they softly cleaned his body. She had been gentle and…loving. Molly had patched him up and did not ask any questions when Mycroft had shown up and Sherlock left. While he could not pinpoint why he had found himself going back to those moments in his mind palace on numerous occasion.

He found recalling the sensation of her hands on his skin oddly soothing, helping him to find a calm when he was frustrated by the lack of progress he was making on tracking down Moriarty's informants.

It had bothered him and since he refused to cling to any type of sentiment when he returned Sherlock made sure his relationship with Molly did not alter. He forced himself to go back to thinking of her only as a colleague banishing himself from her room in his mind palace. Sherlock even tried to visit St. Barts only when absolutely necessary. He had been doing well until he learned about Greene's banquet. Sherlock had all but dissembled Moriarty's network when he returned. There was only one person left.

Sherlock had not been able to come up with his name but he knew it someone powerful. Most likely Moriarty's second in command. Someone he trained specifically to take over. Not Sebastian Moran his fateful assassin whom Sherlock originally thought and had finally caught up with. No, someone smart. A person with power who also had the money to back the organization again. It had taken him awhile to figure out this person existed and when he did Sherlock realized this man was too clever to be caught.

No, if Sherlock wanted him he was going to have to draw him out which is one of the reasons he had come back prematurely against Mycroft's wishes. After a few months he stumbled into a name Nicholas Greene. A wealthy man who had his hands into everything. While nothing outwardly suspicious, in fact he was considered by most a respected business man but after some digging and tapping into his homeless network for contacts Sherlock was convinced it was him.

He knew he could not pass this opportunity to investigate so Mycroft had arranged an invitation for Sherlock, but had quickly informed him the invite was for him and his wife. "It is the only way," he had told him when Sherlock had protested, "You will draw attention if you attend as a bachelor."

As much he hated to admit it, he knew Mycroft was right. If he attended with someone he would blend in better. Just another face on the dance floor until he could sneak away to find the evidence he needed. Sherlock was loathed to ask Molly but she was the only one he knew and trusted enough to go with him. However, after seeing how she looked tonight and his reaction to her he was beginning to regret his decision.

"Ready?" Molly asked interrupting his thoughts.

He nodded opening her door, forcing his mind back onto the task at hand.

As he hailed a cab Molly tried to hide her jitters. She believed Sherlock was pleased by her appearance, the first moments of him staring at her unable to speak had been delightful. At first she was worried he was upset but when he kissed her hand she forced herself not to giggle like a school-girl. However, now they were on their way to the party and Molly could feel her heart racing. She had no idea how she was supposed to behave.

"Sherlock," Molly said tentatively, "What should I do tonight? I mean-"

"Do not worry, Molly." Sherlock interrupted not even bothering to gaze up from his phone, "Since being a conversationalist is hardly a strength of yours just smile and try to talk as little as possible. With the way you look in that dress I doubt anyone will believe I married you for your mind anyway."

Molly frowned.

Sherlock gazed over at her, "Problem?" He asked sounding slightly annoyed.

"I am just not sure if that was a compliment."

Sherlock gave a rare smile, "To spare a row let us just say it was."

Molly laughed with a nod, "So," She paused, "Who exactly is Greene?"

Sherlock went still. He had been loathed to give her any details earlier. He believed the less she knew the better. After everything that had happened with Moriarty it was difficult for him to even involve John in his cases not wanting to put them in the same position again.

Molly tilted her head, "It would be safer for me to know."

Sherlock snapped up his head in surprise. She smiled softly, "I know you think it's best if you do it alone but you don't have too."

Once again Sherlock wondered how of all the people in his life, even those the closest to him could not read him the way Molly could. As he stayed silent, she leaned forward placing her hand on his knee, "Sherlock, please. At least tell me enough to help you get through tonight. If nothing else so I don't say or do anything that would jeopardize your investigation."

He nodded reluctantly, "Nicholas Greene," He said leaning back into the seat, "is considered by most just a successful business man except no-one is sure what business he is in. Most believe he is an investor with his hands tied in to almost everything from real estate to the stock market."

"Except you?" Molly asked.

He inclined his head, "When I was underground I believed I knew who Moriarty had set up for his replacement. His assassin by the name of Sebastian Moran. However, I soon realized Moran was simply a soldier. A good one, he followed orders without question and very skilled obviously."

"Not a leader though," Molly stated.

Sherlock smiled impressed again by her intelligence, "exactly. Moriarty would have never left his network without ensuring its survival. I believe he had a… apprentice if you will. Someone he specifically trained to take over."

She nodded, "But why do you think it's Greene?"  
"He has been around for quite a while. Mycroft has been suspicions about him for some time but then suddenly he flourished with more money and power. Especially a little over a year and half ago.

"Right after Moriarty…" She trailed off not wanting to remind him of those awful moments on the roof.

"Correct," Sherlock stated brusquely, "And if he is anything like his predecessor he will be too intelligent to make a mistake. I will have to simply outsmart and outmaneuver him. Hence my need to attend this gala tonight."

Molly nodded absorbing everything he told her, "I take it you will not be attending as Sherlock Holmes."

"No," Sherlock said with an eye roll missing the teasing in her voice, "I will attending as investment banker Benjamin Christie and you," He smirked, "My lovely wife will be Emily Christie."

Molly smiled shakily, she prayed she could pull this off.

"Here we are," Sherlock stated as the cab pulled in front of a beautiful old stone house. It was ablaze with light and sounds of merrymaking filled the air, "Ready?"

"Yes," She replied grateful her voice didn't shake. As Sherlock took her hand helping her out of the cab, Molly gave one more glance heavenward, "Here goes nothing," She mumbled before pasting on a fake smile.


	2. Chapter 2

**Sorry Guys it took me so long to get this up! School started and my BFF introduced me to Damon from Vampire Diaries so I had to do a total marathon of them for awhile. Anyway thanks for the patience and I hope you enjoy! BTW the artist I mention was completely made up so if there is a real one by the same name I apologize.**

* * *

Molly and Sherlock fell in line with the other guests as they neared the front of the door where a young women with shocking red hair in a beautiful emerald dress took invitations. Molly tried to be discreet as she gazed around the yard but she had a feeling she was unsuccessful.

The gardens were ablaze with roses and lights giving off a majestic feel; there were two fountains on either side shooting different colors of water into the night. It was something she would have imagined as a little girl playing princess and the dragon or a scene out of a book, "It looks like a fairy garden," She whispered to Sherlock a little gleefully. He rolled his eyes but Molly noticed his lips twitch as though he was suppressing a smile.

Sherlock turned brushing his lips against her cheek as he angled his body in front of hers, to an outsider it would look a normal lover's caress, "give me your hand," He whispered low.

Molly shot him a slightly quizzical look but put her hands into his trying not to be startled when she felt something cold slip over her finger. He smoothly stepped away greeting the hostess with a charming smile as he handed her their invitations.

Molly gazed down swallowing hard as she noticed the diamond resting on her left hand. It was a beautiful princess cut set in a very simple band and rested perfectly on her finger. It was exactly the type of ring Molly would have picked out for herself which almost made it worse. If it had been some opulent ring that was slightly too large for her finger it would have been easier to keep reminding herself this was all pretend.

"Emily?" Sherlock called out extending his hand, "Are you ready?" Molly noticing a wedding band on him smiled inwardly telling herself this would be the closest she would ever come to being married to Sherlock, she might as well enjoy it while it lasted. "Of course," She replied taking his hand as they went inside.

As soon as they entered into the foray Molly had to stop herself from openly gaping, "My entire flat could fit into this room," She muttered under her breath.

Sherlock smirked but didn't comment, placing his hand low on her back as he guided her on. Molly prayed he didn't notice how her heart leaped at his touch. As they walked into the main parlor with the other guests, she couldn't stop herself from taking all of it in.

The house was beautifully decorated with art and artifacts from all over the world. Waiters held trays overfilled with hors d'oeuvres and Molly was mortified to realize she didn't recognize any of it. She could see the caviar but she had no clue about anything else. She shot Sherlock a slightly panicked look as the waiter stopped, "Angels on Horseback, Madame?"

"Thank you," Sherlock said calmly grabbing two, "It is just bacon wrapped around an oyster," he whispered handing her one.

"Oh," Molly mumbled feeling foolish but she straightened her spine refusing to be intimidated, "What do you think of the house?" Molly inquired.

Sherlock understood it was her way of asking what he had deducted from his surroundings, he had been taking everything in since he had arrived. The house was decorated with glass… Glass chandeliers which were ablaze with lights, glass casings holding antiques, even the art was all modern and impersonal. Basically the entire place was shown to be very cold.

Greene had done this on purpose, being very careful about his surroundings. He had been trained well Sherlock reflected ruefully. While the place reeked of opulence and someone who cared a great deal about his trinkets Sherlock knew better. He didn't care about any of it, Greene had chosen all of this because it was unreadable.

"A cover," He murmured in her ear, "A very expensive mask."

Molly turned her head into him so they simply looked like a couple whispering intimacies, "It seems as though he is trying very hard at appearing rich. I have a feeling he was originally poor and is still trying to convince himself he is not the same little boy anymore."

Sherlock nodded thoughtfully wondering what she had seen that made her think of him in such a way. From everything he had been able to gather on Greene there had been no indication of him once being down in the gutter, "Come on," He muttered, "We need to mingle."

She nodded but secretly wondered how this was going to work. Sherlock Holmes was well known within London society. He had been in the headlines for weeks after his death and resurrection, surely he would be recognized.

Molly raised her eyebrow silently asking him. Sherlock shot her a genuine grin, "I am amazing actor" He said confidently. "I could convince Mycroft I was Benjamin Christie if I wanted too."  
She laughed, "Show off."

Sherlock leaned low his lips brushing the shell of her ear causing her to shiver, "No, it's not showing off when you're just that good." He paused wickedly, "at everything."

Molly could feel her face flame with heat as she took in his words. She didn't reply but quickly plucked a glass of champagne off a waiter taking a deep gulp, she was going to need all the help she could get tonight.

She felt Sherlock chuckle against her back as he took the glass out her hand, "Careful dear," he stated, "the night has just started." He winked at her taking his own sip before turning towards the couple next to them. "Ah, Michael, Jo-Anne." He said happily, "How nice to see you again."

You could tell Sherlock had taken them by surprised but they recovered quickly, "oh yes- nice to see you too Mr.…" The man Michael trailed off helplessly looking at his wife, "Christie" Sherlock answered extending his hand, "Benjamin Christie. We met last year at the Starlight ball."

"Oh yes, of course." Michael said confidently although one could tell he had no recognition of the event, "forgive me, I have always been terrible at names."

Sherlock nodded, "I understand. You remember my lovely wife Emily," he asked beckoning Molly forward. She smiled easily trying to ignore the repulsion she felt at the appreciation in the old man's eyes. He was overweight and she could see the beads of sweat glistening on his forehead, his roving gaze never leaving her chest while his wife Jo-Anne glared subtly her own ample form straining against her too tight dress.

"Emily, you remember Mr. and Mrs. Michael Carrington," Sherlock said.

"Yes, of course," Molly replied extending her hand, "It is a pleasure to see you again."

Michael took her hand kissing the back of it, "The pleasure is mine," He smiled creepily, "I seem to remember us dancing last year at the Starlight gala Mrs. Christie, I do hope you will give me the pleasure of doing so again."

Molly opened her mouth but before she could reply, Sherlock slipped his arm around her waist, "Forgive me, Michael but the last time I sent her off with you I wasn't sure I would get her back. She was quite smitten with your dancing skills." He told him, his charm working on the older man who flushed happily, "We shall see, my boy. I may just whisk her away before you notice she's gone."

They chuckled while Molly tried not to show how disgusted she was at the idea of dancing with creep, "I will be on my toes," Sherlock replied as they walked on, "Good job," He told her appreciatively, "You handled them well."

She felt her inside grow warm at the compliment knowing Sherlock did not say anything he did not mean, "So is that the trick?" Molly asked, "Just pretend you know them and force them to play along."

He nodded, "I investigated almost all the guests who would be here tonight, gathering names and faces. As long as you call them by name and act like they should recognize you they have no choice but to go along. Most of the people will be too scared to argue."

Molly shook her head, "Where does one where learn tricks like that?" She asked, "Do they teach those things at Uni and no-one told me?"

Sherlock rolled her eyes at her teasing but did not comment.

He knew Molly was completely out her comfort zone but he was actually quite proud of how well she was doing. He had been worried she would blow their cover by jumping or squealing the first time he touched her but so far she had not outwardly reacted to him. Although Sherlock knew she was affected by the way her heart would jump; which gave him a weird primal satisfaction he always thought was beneath him.

He glanced over at her from the corner of his eye, the low- cut of her dress caused her normally hidden bosom to stretch with each breath, almost teasing with image of spilling over plus every-time she moved he could see her leg through the slit causing him to lose focus on what he should be doing.

Sherlock inwardly cursed wishing he had not told Molly to dress differently than usual. Seeing her in oversized jumpers and dresses that did not suit her made it easier to keep himself distant but this red dress was bringing everything to the forefront. Plus, he had to keep resisting shielding her from every man's hungry gaze.

When Michael Carrington had locked his lecherous eyes on Molly he had to stop himself from growling at the old bastard. When he had asked Molly to dance Sherlock knew Molly would have agreed to do so just to be polite and while it would have given him the perfect opportunity to sneak away, the idea of Carrington touching her made Sherlock stiffen. He never did like to share.

He immediately reminded himself why he was here and he was once more grateful he could detach from his emotions so easily. It would do no good to allow himself to be distracted. Sherlock needed to focus his attention on Greene so he could finally end everything which had been plaguing him for the last two years.

Sherlock needed Molly for this reason and after tonight she would go back to St. Barts where she belonged. Then he could focus on getting back to his cases and their relationship would return to simply being colleagues where it would stay.

"Sherlock," Molly whispered urgently causing him to switch his attention down on her, "Are you ok?"

"Of course," He replied sharply, "and call me Benjamin. I don't want to risk someone overhearing you."

She nodded, "Sorry." She glanced around, smiling and greeting a few people as they went by, "Have you seen him yet?" Molly asked quietly.

Sherlock shook his head, "You stay here, pretend to interested in some of the art pieces. I am going to go see if I can find him."

Molly nodded watching him stroll away, she let out a deep breath grateful for a moment to gather her bearings. The evening had been filled with a tension she could not identify. The way Sherlock and she had moved together naturally, her body reacting to his instinctively, and the sense of belonging every-time he slipped his arm around her waist. Molly had known this night would difficult emotionally but she had not anticipated such a physical intensity as well.

She played with the ring on her finger as she gazed at statue of a water ballerina in a casing by the window, "beautiful isn't it?" a deep voice spoke behind Molly startling her. She glanced over seeing a handsome man about her age smiling at her.

He was dressed sharply but his green eyes seemed to shine with a hidden laugh relaxing Molly, she nodded with a smile, "very."

He stepped forward gesturing to the case, "Do you like McHale?"

Molly blushed, "I am afraid my experience in art is very limited. Is he the sculptor?"

The man smiled, "Yes but don't feel bad. He is rather new to the art scene and really only known locally. This piece was done a few years ago but if his work keeps up to this level he will be known worldwide soon."

"I hope so. She is lovely," Molly replied gesturing to the ballerina.

"Yes, she is." He said with appreciative look causing Molly to blush, she took in his strong build and chocolate brown hair which was tousled giving him a boyish like quality. He was by most standards a very good looking man and she was disappointed to realize she felt no reaction to him at all. Molly suddenly felt depressed with the knowledge Sherlock had truly ruined her for life.

"I'm sorry." She apologized, "How rude of me, I am Emily. Mrs. Benjamin Christie." She told him pointedly.

He smirked with a nod, "I know. I am Nicholas Greene."

* * *

Molly felt sick, this was the new Moriarty and once again the self-servicing- don't care who I kill psychopath was flirting with her! Although she forced herself not to react outwardly she couldn't help thinking she needed to go on a serious karma cleanse if this was the type of man she kept attracting, "Well it's nice to meet you again," She told him grateful to hear her voice was steady.

Greene bowed over her hand but raised his eyebrow at her quizzically, "You know I don't recall meeting you before but I must have because you would have not been invited otherwise." He stated plainly.

Molly laughed softly, "Maybe I am just not that remarkable enough to remember."  
"I doubt that," Greene paused looking her up down causing her to regret wearing such a form hugging dress, "Unless you did not look like this last time."

Before she could reply not that she had any idea what she should say, Molly noticed Sherlock walking back towards them carrying two glasses of Champagne. "There you are darling," she greeted warmly, "I was beginning to think you got lost."

Sherlock smiled, "I ran into Elijah Ellington, you know how much of talker he is," He lied smoothly handing her the glass.

Molly nodded knowingly before gesturing to the gentlemen in front of her, "Oh, Benjamin you remember Mr. Nicholas Greene don't you."

Sherlock stiffened slightly at her side but quickly recovered, "of course. Our wonderful host, it is a pleasure to see you again."

"Likewise," Greene stated almost sarcastically.

Sherlock turned towards her, "Well dear, I believe this is our song. Shall we?" He asked gesturing towards the dance floor.

Molly recognizing the escape, slipped her arm through his, "I wondered if you would notice," She told him cheekily.

"Mr. Greene," Sherlock nodded as he led her away and Molly could feel the tension in his muscles although you would never know just to look at him. "Damn it," Sherlock muttered under his breath as they started to dance.

"What?" Molly trembled almost afraid to ask, "I thought you wanted to see him, I thought that's why you went looking for him?"  
"I wanted to see him, not for him to see me," Sherlock whispered harshly, "He knows exactly who I am. I was just supposed to be another face in the crowd until I could get the evidence I needed for Mycroft."

Molly felt sick. This was the whole reason she had been brought along so Sherlock could blend in better. The minute she learned the man she was talking to was Nicholas she should have fled to intercept Sherlock instead she introduced them alerting Greene to his presence. "I'm sorry," She muttered feeling miserable.

Sherlock glanced down at her, some of the tension leaving him as he took her guilt-ridden face, "Don't be," He sighed, "I should have anticipated him seeking you out."

Molly frowned confused, "Why?"

Sherlock spun her around effortlessly, once again noting the ability to move with him instinctively as they flowed across the floor without having to think about the steps.

He leaned his head down towards hers, "Because Miss Hooper, you have been the focus of every man here since you walked in. You have put every other woman to shame tonight." Sherlock said, his hand slipping down to the small of her back, pulling her in closer.

Molly looked up at him meeting his gaze feeling her heart swell at his words, "thank you," She whispered.

He didn't say anything else but they kept their eyes locked onto each other as they danced. Palm to Palm and chest to chest. Molly could feel her breath catching in her throat not able to hear the music over the pounding of her heart. Feeling slightly pleased noticing that even Sherlock seemed to have lost some of his stoic demeanor.

Sherlock spun her out once more before pulling back in forcefully causing her body to slam into his, she let out a slight gasp at the contact causing his eyes to flick down to her lips but before she could move the song ended and he swiftly stepped away. She realized whatever spell they had been under while they danced was over as quickly as it had begun.

Molly tried to gather her bearings and prayed her legs were steady to walk, "Come on," Sherlock said with a sigh, "We should go. Now that he is aware we are here, he will be too alert for me to gather any information."

She nodded but before they could move Molly noticed Nicholas Greene walking towards them. While his face was pleasant, she could see the coldness in his eyes. Sherlock was right, she reflected with a sinking heart. He knew exactly who they were and in no doubt coming over to give some cryptic intelligent threat which you would only understand if you were Sherlock Holmes.

Remembering everything Moriarty had put him through, the desperation they both felt at needing this to be over, Molly refused to allow this night to be useless for Sherlock.

Digging down deep to find some feminine wiles she didn't even know she had, she stepped in front of Sherlock. "Mr. Greene," Molly practically purred, "I would be honored if you would dance the next one with me." She leaned into him slightly pressing her chest up against his arm.

Nicholas smirked letting his eyes slip down her dress, "I would be delighted. As long as your _husband_ doesn't mind."

"Of course he doesn't," Molly said quickly before Sherlock could speak, "right, darling?" She leaned into Sherlock brushing her lips against his cheek, "Go," she whispered, "I will distract him as long as I can." Molly pulled back ignoring his thunderous glare, "Shall we?" She asked Nicholas coyly.

Greene pointedly ignored Sherlock as he pulled Molly in close, "absolutely.

Sherlock was torn watching him skirt Molly away. A part of him knew he should get her out of there while he still could except this may be the only chance he had to sneak upstairs. Sherlock briefly wondered how long she could keep him distracted but after seeing her smile seductively up at him and lean in closer, he realized he probably had time to grab tea before heading up.

Molly had been the focus of every male in the room in the dress alone but this, this was a whole new ball game. Briefly wondering where this side was coming from and a little angry that he had never noticed it before, he gave them one more glance before Sherlock forced himself to focus. He swiftly headed towards the staircase pushing all thoughts of Molly Hooper out of his mind.

Molly had no clue where this new found courage was coming from but she was going to work it as long as she could, "So, Mr. Greene-"

"Nicholas, please," He interrupted her with a smile.

She angled her head confidently, "Very well, Nicholas, then I am Emily."

He looked at her but did not comment instead moving her gracefully across the floor, "So what do you think of my humble abode?"

Molly let out a breathless laugh, "I do not believe I have ever seen anything less humble in my life. It's beautiful."

Nicholas nodded his head, "Yes, I have always been a great admirer of beautiful things. I have often felt life is better when one is surrounded by objects to showcase all the great things in the world. Reminds me why it is important to live not just to float through time."

Molly pretended to absorb this with a nod, in honestly she found his statement a little odd and out of place but she had no doubt Sherlock would have picked up the intention underneath.

"You see, Emily," He paused telling her subtle that he knew that was not her true name, "Due to unfortunate circumstances I grew up being denied many of life's pleasure. Everyday necessities others take for granted so I vowed to never again be denied of what I want, no matter what I have to do."

They stopped moving with Molly feeling cold at the tone in his voice, "Are you willing to pay the price for such a life?" She whispered.

Greene laughed, a deep laugh with no feeling, "It will not be me paying, my dear." He bent forward brushing his lips against hers softly before whispering in her ear, "so maybe you should ask Sherlock if he's willing to pay? For if he intends to engage in this game with me the stakes will be far higher than what he could imagine." With those words he pulled away with a wink, "Good-night, Dr. Hooper."

Molly let out a shaky breath as he walked away noticing the tremble in her fingers, she had no doubt Greene was just as dangerous as Moriarty and was not to be underestimated. She glanced over at him warily when he raised his champagne glass up pointing to something behind her.

Molly looked over noticing a man with a gun tucked into his side walking up to the second floor.

"Sherlock," She whispered frantically before taking off after them.

* * *

Sherlock broke into the room easily, his mind quickly taking everything in. The desk was an antique mahogany with matching bookshelves. Similar to downstairs it was filled with different sculptures. However, unlike the other pieces which had all been more modern this had an old-world feel to them. As though Green had been trying to create a library from a book he had read, "Hmm," Sherlock murmured picking up an elephant statue sitting on the desk noticing there was a least a dozen others throughout the room, "curious."

He sat down at the computer quickly going through files, despite Molly's new found charm Sherlock doubted she would be able to give him more than fifteen minutes before Greene sent someone looking for him. He could feel his frustrations mounting as quickly discovered that Moriarty had indeed trained his new apprentice well. There was nothing here to suggest that Nicholas Greene was nothing more than a very successful straight laced business man.

Just when he about to give up he noticed an encrypted email from a J.L. - Sherlock quickly put in his key to start his process of breaking it when he heard the sound of someone creaking on the floorboards outside. Cursing, he rose realizing his time was up. He snuck over to the door looking around for something to grab to help defend himself when he heard her, "OOPS!" Molly's called out loudly.

Sherlock scowled feeling his blood boil, "What is she doing?" He growled opening the door a peak noticing that Molly had stumbled on the front stairs causing the guard who had been trying to sneak into the room turn towards her. He quickly tucked his gun back out of sight, "Ma'am," He called out impatiently, "you're not supposed to be up here."

Molly giggled before standing up a little unsteadily, "I was just trying to find the loo," She answered happily giving off a very convincing performance of someone who had been drinking. The guard walked over grabbing her arm to steady her, "Ma'am"

Molly swatted his arm playfully, "Emily, please. Ma'am is for my mother." She leaned forward brushing her lips against his, "Do I look like my mother?" She whispered seductively. The guard licked his lips his eyes widening slightly, "No, I just meant-"He trailed off as Molly's hands started playing with his suit buttons, "Well what's your name?" She asked impatiently.

Sherlock shook his head in wonder at the scene playing in front of him, who knew Molly Hooper could be such a little minx when she wanted to be. He scurried back over to the computer quickly copying the file. "Yes," He called out triumphantly as it successfully downloaded he threw it into his pocket heading back into the hallway.

Molly had no clue when she went upstairs what she was going to do but she just knew she could not let him find Sherlock. She had to get him out of this and the drunk bit seemed her best bet. Thank goodness for her wild roommate at Uni so she at least had some clue how to act. It must be working because this twit was eating it up babbling about his name being Dale something or another when they heard the creak of a door being opened.

She placed her hand on his cheek forcing his head back away from where Sherlock was emerging, "I've always loved that name," She growled before kissing him frantically.

She could tell she had taken the guard by surprise but he quickly wrapped his arms around her forcing his tongue into her mouth. Molly had to stop herself from gagging at the sloppy attempt and resolved to brush her teeth ten times tonight.

"Emily," She heard Sherlock call out from behind her as though he had just climbed the stairs after her, "What are doing?" He demanded yanking her away from the Dale-guard." To which Molly just gave another giggle and slight stumble.

Sherlock shook his head grabbing her wrist, "Sorry mate," He apologized over his shoulder as they hurried away, "Can't take her anywhere."

They rushed back down into the crowd, "What do you think you were doing?" Sherlock hissed at her pushing their way towards the door.

Molly blinked at him, she had just saved his life and he was angry at her?

"What? The whole saving you thing? I don't know, call it force of habit," She snapped back.

Sherlock threw her a sing worthy glory but didn't comment. On one hand he knew he should be grateful for the easy exit but he couldn't help remembering the rush of rage he felt when he saw Molly kiss the idiot. He had to resist tackling the man down the stairs.

Still seething he flew outside quickly grabbing a cab, looking behind to the house Sherlock saw Greene staring at them from a large bay window. He grinned raising his hand in salute.

Sherlock narrowed his eyes at him before pushing Molly inside the car climbing in after her.

As the cab pulled out into the night, the two of them just sat there quietly trying to come to terms with what had just happened.

Molly could still feel her heart racing and the tension in the air seem to hang over them like a balloon. Finally unable to stand it any longer Molly let out a laugh, one she had been holding in all night.

Sherlock raised her eyebrow at her, "Is something funny, Doctor?"

She shook her head but couldn't stop her body from shaking with mirth, "No, of course not-"She let out a snort, "I can't believe I just did that." She cried with another set of chuckles.

Sherlock smirked some of the rage leaving his chest, "Which part?" He asked, "The part where you became some female fatale or the part where you gave a truly spectacular performance of a drunken twat?"

Molly shook her head, "The whole night." She shrugged in somewhat disbelief, "I feel like we just left a weird play or something, I have no idea how we managed to get out of this one."

Sherlock shifted pulling his coat around him, "Of course we did. I had the whole evening completely under control."

Molly glanced at him feeling her lips twitch in amusement, "Of course."

Sherlock gave a soft smile focusing his attention on the London skylight, they did not speak for the rest of the ride. As they pulled in front of her building Molly could feel the adrenaline wearing off and she was suddenly completely drained of energy. As they walked to her door, she could barely get her key in the lock.

She was startled to feel Sherlock press up against her back taking the key from her, "allow me."

Molly nodded gratefully leaning her hip against the doorframe, "Did you get what you needed?" She asked sleepily.

Sherlock glanced over at her as he opened her door, "that remains to be seen. I was able leave not completely empty-handed but whether or not it holds it any value I cannot say."

"I hope so," she replied walking into her flat thinking of nothing but a hot shower and bed when she was stopped by Sherlock grabbing her wrist causing Molly to look at him in surprise. "Thank you," He told her quietly, "For earlier and accompany me tonight."

She stared at him understanding it was not easy for him to show gratitude and admit he needed help. Acting on impulse she reached up brushing a flaxen curl off his forehead. He froze obviously not expecting such a gesture but he didn't push her away. She let her hand trail down to his cheek resting her palm against him, "You're welcome."

He nodded stepping back, pausing to stare at her for a few seconds before leaning in kissing her on the forehead, "Good-Night, Molly Hooper." He murmured gently before turning and swooping away in his usual dramatic fashion.

Molly just stood frozen in the doorway wondering what had just happened. Granted it was not a deceleration of love or anything significant. Hell, she had shared stronger intimacies with John but she couldn't feeling that something had changed between her and Sherlock tonight. Her forehead tingling, Molly walked into her flat with a goofy smile, knowing despite the tension of the night she would sleep peacefully.

* * *

**Thanks everybody! I hope you enjoyed the ending of the Red Dress. I sort of left it open because I may end up doing a sequel at some point with Greene. Let me know what Y'all think!**


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